


Platinum Blonde Life

by Missy



Category: Reno: 911!
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-21
Updated: 2010-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-07 10:48:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brief vingettes from Clemmy's POV explore the liason between Johnson and Garcia, set during the episode "Clementine and Garcia Are Dating".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Platinum Blonde Life

She carries a charm in her pocket the size of a thumbnail. It's small, like a shard of porcelain, sharp-cornered. He held it for a minute, swearing all the while that magic was real and he believed.

Her house was a loose, ramshackle set of rooms, with furniture reeking of patchouli and cheap wine. She memorized the sight of his face against the ceiling, measured against the sunrise, their open affair.

The red sunlight seemed to make her veluxe sofa cushions brown, mud brown. He noticed, but did not tell her.

***

She understood, at the onset, that this would be a dead-end of a relationship. To be metaphysical, he was water and she was air. Or to be honest, he was piss-cheap beer and she was tequila with a dead worm inside. They were too different, too strange, to make much of a go at it.

But when she tasted love, felt it on the tip of her tongue, she held on and would not let go.

She closed her eyes and saw the swinging poplar branches over their heads, swinging in time to his hips, to the wind, to her nails on his shoulders.

***

When they splintered, she lied. God knew, the white lie was her best friend. _No, I'm not working at a titty bar. No sir, I don't know how that stash got there. No, Jimmy never hit me before. And I got him back that one time..._

She won't lie to herself; she loved him. More than he loved himself.

Predictably, the withdrawal was loud, public. It reminded her of the ugliness her mother's divorce had brought to her life. And she abhorred ugly.

So she shrank from her banks, back into her tie-dyed Goddess-print quilt -he knew who Athena was, could pick her out of the lineup-, her old boyfriend's names making a guestbook of her back. Back to her frosted pink nails, severe red Wet N Wild lips. Receding into her platinum blonde shell without wounding her outside. The inside would not matter. It never had.


End file.
